Minute Details
by G-4rce
Summary: She was drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. He finally understands that it was never just blind faith. Rated T for some violent "Potty Prof" thoughts. Some spoilers for Case 9.
1. Chapter 1

**Minute Details**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Layton Brothers: Mystery Room (sadly).**

Alfendi glared at the cold contents of a chipped mug. His fingers impatiently drummed the desk, and his eyes darted back and forth from the calendar to the phone. From the phone to the door. From the door to the clutter of newspapers that seemed to engulf the Mystery Room.

Normally, Alfendi would've been fine sitting in the room with nothing to do. He would pull out old cases that he had pored over with a fine-comb for the hundredth time, or he would read yellowing newspapers that had been dug up from the bottom of the drawers (he honestly wasn't sure if he had reached the bottom).

And then Lucy Baker, with her thick cockney accent and huge vat of optimism, appeared out of thin air.

And then Case 9 happened.

Four years ago, when Alfendi had woken up in the recovery room with several IV's stuck in him and a chest wound that would never quite properly heal again (_and the fact that he had murdered a man…)_, he had thought that that was his turning point. He vaguely remembered skimming through an article in the newspaper that day while he listened to the drone of the machines and the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

_"Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself."_

It was by a Russian author, and frankly, Alfendi had paid hardly any attention to it.

_After all, _he had thought, _I am changing the world. Why would I need to change myself? _

Now he could only sit there, spinning in his swiveling chair as he bitterly laughed at the cruel irony. The dizzying effect of the revolving chair numbed the pain Alfendi felt when he finally accepted the truth.

_So this is the real me. I am the real Alfendi Layton. _

Oh, and it hurt.

It hurt more than the bullet that buried into his chest, mere inches away from his beating heart four long, long years ago.

The whispering, the accusing glances, the _fear._

_Her _fear.

When the "other" him began appearing more often than usual, he could practically taste the tension in the rooms when he walked into them. Of course, everyone treated him with cordiality, but the forced politeness was easy for Alfendi Layton to detect. After all, he was a master with minute details.

When the "other" him first appeared in front of Lucy Baker, he could practically taste his own self-loathing as threatening words slipped out of his mouth and stunned his assistant into silence. Alfendi wished he could take back what he said, to rewind and apologize for his sudden slip, but he couldn't. He was Alfendi Layton, and Alfendi Layton never took back what he said.

And so he hated himself for that. He hated the real Alfendi Layton and his accursed ego.

But Lucy Baker was different. While his real temperament seemed to discourage most people, (how Hilda had managed to retain a relationship with him while he was normal was beyond his understanding), Lucy seemed to be drawn to it.

_Like an innocent moth to a roaring inferno._

Alfendi could barely contain his disbelief as Lucy confidently held herself tall during his "Potty Prof" moments. Yes, there was fear at first. Yes, there was surprise at first. But as time passed, she seemed to start understanding him. The _real_ him.

Sometimes, the real Alfendi would appear for hours. And yet, Lucy was always there. He would be sitting at the desk, snarling curses at the simplicity of certain minds, and she would quietly set a mug of steaming tea beside him and observe him from the side of the room as he continued to rant. He felt grudging respect for her when he (proudly) watched her deduce a crime by herself with only her determination and intellect. And when she discovered the true culprit of a crime… with her eyes ablaze with passion, and finger held resolutely at the criminal, and her voice loud and clear… Alfendi felt so close to her. They were so similar. They were so different. She was bold, he had to admit. While most of his depraving threats could make just about everyone cringe, Lucy would simply roll her eyes, grin wryly, and say (with her thick cockney accent that Alfendi found slightly irresistible), "Steady on, Prof."

Her fear was subsiding, and Alfendi knew he was almost there.

And then Case 9 happened.

The horrible, torturous pain was back when he heard the tremble in her voice as he sat there in the chair while holding the godforsaken pistol in his hands.

The "other" side of him easily came out, desperate to prove his own innocence to everyone… and to Lucy Baker, the only human who had accepted him for who he was and not what he could do.

Of course, his despair grew as he watched Lucy literally shrink as the real him shouted abuse and displayed more-violent-than-usual thoughts.

Alfendi finally gave up. He gave up on Lucy. He gave up on _himself. _What was the point of proving something that was improvable? There was no evidence, no contradictions, nothing. Alfendi was done. The real him fought hard, but this time, Alfendi knew it was over. The burden on his shoulders would finally be lifted and he would finally confess his crime.

* * *

"The person who shot Keelan Makepeace dead was me, _Alfendi Layton_."

* * *

It was finally over. He would be a murderer for the rest of his life, but that didn't matter. He could go back to the Mystery Room and hopefully Lucy would quit her job. After all, he, Alfendi Layton, was a true hypocrite.

Everything would be normal again and yet… The agony seared through his body as he finally understood just how harsh fate could be.

_Lucy… You will be my greatest regret._

In the end, it was Hilda all over again. The anguish in Lucy's eyes mirrored Hilda's hurt four years ago. It was like tearing open an old wound and rubbing salt into it.

It was like Justin.

It was like Florence.

It was like his father…

But unsurprisingly, Lucy hurt him the most. After all, he had given both of his hearts to her, and she had cracked them both.

Alfendi wasn't angry, no, he could never be mad at Lucy. But the disappointment was worse than he'd expected.

_We were going to make a great team, Lucy, but I understand. I understand what you must do._

As he had walked down the hall towards the entrance, Alfendi felt nothing. It was all going to be over soon with just a few more steps.

And just as Justin was pulling out the pair of handcuffs, just as Hilda glanced away with tears in her eyes, just as the real Alfendi was about to sink into a dark void…

* * *

"I'm going to blow this case wide open and expose the mastermind behind it all!"

* * *

Light seemed to break through the obscurity and suddenly everything was clear. He was back. Alfendi Layton was back! He could feel the rush of adrenaline, the quickening of his pulse, the fear of the true criminal.

Alfendi opened his eyes and truly saw Lucy Baker for the first time, just as she truly saw him when "Potty Prof" first appeared.

No, he was wrong. It was never blind faith from Lucy's part. The trust she had in him was of her own accord, and he could see it in her eyes.

Alfendi Layton had never felt so blind his entire life.

Alfendi Layton had never felt so guilty his entire life.

_I betrayed her. _

And he was going to make sure that Lucy would never have to suffer again because of his flaws.

Alfendi saw her visibly brighten up as he finally decided that the battle would be worth it.

_She believes in me. Despite all of my flaws, all of my mis-_

"OI! PROF! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WOT AYE JUS' FOUND!"

Alfendi toppled over in his spinning chair as the door banged open.

When the flutter of newspapers had finally settled down, Lucy cautiously stepped into the room and peered down at Alfendi, who was still lying face-down in the sea of newspapers, case files, and whatnot.

"Ee, Prof! You havt' drowned in all this madness, have you? Really. You oughta take care of yourself better than this! Look at this here mess; I havt' been 'ere for three days an' this is wot happens? You can't always go off an' chase them criminals. Cripes, Prof, you should know bet'er than this…"

He could hear her going about the room, scooping up random armfuls of papers and putting them into various scattered boxes.

Lucy Baker had been gone for a total of three days, and it had driven him crazy.

"Should aye git you another cuppa, Prof? Your brew's gone all col'."

"You."

Alfendi's snarl was muffled by his current position.

"Eh? Wot's wrong Prof?"

He struggled to raise himself up and glared at her.

"Ee-up, welcome back, Potty Prof."

Her tone was teasing, light and warm as she regarded him.

"I'm going to cut off both your arms, Baker. They're useless anyway, since you don't use them to knock before you come in! Ah-choo!"

Lucy simply smirked at him.

"Aye'd like to see you try, Prof. You've got a mighty fine fever blowin' in!"

He felt her warm arms envelop him as she struggled to hoist him to the couch.

"Jus' how d'you manage t' gain weight when you don' eat anythin'? Aye swear aye'm going t' solve tha' case sometime."

With a final grunt and heave, Lucy managed to place Alfendi on the couch.

Alfendi could already feel himself fading away.

_ Now or never, Al. _

"Aye'm going t' grab a nice, fresh cuppa for you, okay?"

He could feel the weight of the couch lessen as she stood up slowly.

_Now or never._

"Lucy," he rasped.

"Eh?"

"Come here for a moment."

He heard the crackling of the newspapers as she walked over by his side.

"There's a secret case I need to tell you about; bend down closer, won't you?"

He smelled her sweet-scented hair as she bent down, nearer and nearer.

Placid Prof or Potty Prof, to her, made no difference whatsoever.

_I've chosen you to be my assistant, Lucy Baker. _

"Closer," he whispered. Sleep was overwhelming him.

And suddenly, Lucy was there. His golden eyes snapped open, just in time to see hers widen in surprise as he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheeks.

She quickly drew back, quite shocked at her mentor's sudden actions.

"It mus' be t' fever talkin'…" she muttered to herself as she quietly exited the room.

But Alfendi Layton, who was not quite asleep yet, heard the tremor in her voice.

And he concluded that there was a 98.5% chance that Lucy Baker might like him back.

After all, he was a master with minute details.

* * *

Thanks for reading my first ever FanFiction story!

I'm really, really sorry if Lucy and Alfendi seem out of character, but I'll definitely try to do a better job next time.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all so much for the wonderful and inspiring reviews!

It seems that many of you are curious about that 1.5%, so I've decided that I will add a third chapter to ensure that Lucifendi happens.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy Lucy's POV in Chapter 2.

It was... interesting to write about...

* * *

**Minute Details: Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer: Yup, there'd be a sequel in progress if I owned Layton Brothers: Mystery Room.**

Lucy stared at the closed door and desperately tried to calm her pumping heart.

"It must be t' fever. It has to be," she whispered to herself over and over again. Lucy mentally flinched at how pathetic her wavering tone sounded.

_Getta hold o' yourself, Detective Constable Baker._

No.

No, no, no! This was not what she wanted! Well, yes, Lucy _did _want it, but not in such a fashion.

In her mind, the scene always played out conventionally. She didn't care if there weren't any flowers, sappy romantic music, or scented candles. She didn't even care if it was in the middle of a murder case!

Lucy leaned against the door and covered her face with both hands. The Prof had done it. The Prof had finally made her dream become reality. Oh no, Lucy was not about to deny the subtle stirrings in her stomach whenever the Prof looked at her with approval in his eyes. She was not about to deny the nervous flutter of her heart when he placidly smiled at her when she fetched him a cuppa.

Lucy could not deny it anymore.

But this?

This was simply humiliating. Prof was hallucinating in his feverish haze, and he had _done _it.

_By 'eck! I'll ne'er be able to lay me eyes on 'im again!_

Lucy gently slapped herself on the cheeks and then clenched her fists in determination.

"C'mon, Lucy lass! Now's not t' time to drown yourself in romanticizing butterflies! Prof needs me!" she huffed to herself.

Steeling what was left of her functional nerves, Lucy quietly cracked open the door and peered inside (_like a guilty criminal, _she dryly remarked) with caution. Prof was still lying on the couch, but his condition seemed to be worsening.

Lucy suddenly felt disgusted at herself. It was only Prof. He was her friend, mentor, and partner. That was it.

_Since when did you become so selfish, Baker?_

But still she tip-toed quietly across the room. But still she held her breath as she gazed down at his pale face.

Lucy gently placed her trembling hand on his forehead. Prof's disheveled red hair was matted on his forehead as he sweated profusely.

Red hair. Blood red hair. Flaming red hair.

_Potty Prof._

A shiver ran down Lucy's spine, but it was not out of cold or fear.

She was genuinely surprised when the initial trepidation finally disappeared; after all, Potty Prof had proved himself to be rather disturbing.

* * *

"Am I going to have to cut out your tongues to get you to shut up?!"

* * *

The first time Potty Prof made his appearance, Lucy loathed him. After all, he was everything she despised.

Arrogant. Narcissistic. Cruel. Merciless.

Each word was a dagger in her because before Potty Prof had paid Lucy an unwelcome visit, she had already found Prof, _her _Prof, a permanent space in her innocent heart.

The way he ruthlessly cornered criminals, the way he sadistically grinned when he scented their fear and defeat, the way he simply _enjoyed _murder like he was sipping freshly brewed tea while savoring the afternoon breeze… Lucy could not understand the real Alfendi Layton.

But at the same time, she could not lie to herself.

_Since when did you become a liar, Baker?_

In reality, Lucy had realized with a cringe, she did not understand- only because she _chose _not to.

Lucy did understand Potty Prof. And it scared her so much she wanted to curl up in a fetal position and bury herself in stale biscuits and crumpets.

And that thought scared her even more.

Lucy was always such a merry and optimistic person, even on her gloomier days, but the way Potty Prof affected her without even trying…

_Oh bollocks, jus' wot is happenin' to me?_

The real Alfendi Layton was high functioning sociopath, and she, Lucy Baker, could read him like a book, albeit it was a thick book filled with long words and complicated passages.

Why?

Lucy often pondered about that question and in the end, she came up with three possible reasons.

Potty Prof was Alfendi Layton, whether she liked it or not. She would just have to accept that fact.

Their professions were similar, so it would only be natural if she understood him, right?

Lucy did not like the third reason at all. But if she lied about it, it would be considered a false statement (Lucy knew about those all too well), and if it was a false statement, it could crack sooner or later.

She liked it.

Whatever Potty Prof was doing, Lucy liked it.

She didn't like it when Potty Prof threatened others with his violent thoughts or when he said despicable things just to see the culprit flinch.

She liked how impassioned the _real _Alfendi Layton was when he solved a mystery.

* * *

"The stage awash with crimson glory! Blood spilling everywhere!"

* * *

Yes, Lucy had to admit that Potty Prof was a tad too melodramatic, but it still shook her to the core. The way his golden eyes glowed with intensity and fervor made her heart race. The way his rich voice reverberated in the room when he uttered his near-theatrical convictions made her spine tingle. The way his red hair seem to flare, blaze, flicker, and dance like fiery embers made Lucy tremble.

Alfendi Layton, she determined, was like an inferno.

He was uncontrollable.

He was uncontained.

He was wild and free and overwhelming.

But he was her source of warmth.

He was her light.

_Listen to me, gettin' all metaphorical and wotnot. If Prof could hear me thinkin' right now, he'd be in stiches._

Of course, _Potty Prof _would be the one smiling wickedly with a gleam in his eyes. Placid Prof would probably take it all in seriously, consider her feelings seriously, and then give her a serious answer. Either way, she loved both of them because Alfendi Layton would not be Alfendi Layton without Potty Prof's insolence or Placid Prof's gentleness.

_They complete each other. _

The thought itself made her feel a slight twinge of jealousy, which then made her feel rather silly.

_Blimey, at this rate, aye might as well point at meself and have a good laugh. _

Lucy gazed down at Prof with an unreadable expression on her face.

A smile slowly crept onto her face and she bent down.

Lower.

Lower.

Prof had kissed her in his feverish state.

Lower.

She hesitated for the slightest moment.

_No regrets, Lucy Lass._

There.

Lucy Baker tenderly pressed her lips to Alfendi Layton's forehead.

She had kissed Prof in his feverish state.

_Revenge is sweet._

Lucy frowned.

Potty Prof was rubbing off on her.

That was her justification for kissing Prof. However, her fluttering heart said otherwise.

"Guess aye'm going to have to take you back to me home, Prof. Can't have you sweatin' an ocean in t' Mystery Room, can we now?" she said out loud to no one in particular.

Just as Lucy exited the room to find someone to help her carry Prof, she glanced back.

Maybe it was the way the room was illuminated, or maybe Lucy had caught Prof's fever and started hallucinating, but she swore she saw Alfendi Layton's lips curve into a smile.

_Since when did you fall in love with him, Baker?_

* * *

One more chapter to go!

Thanks for reading!

(I wonder if anyone caught the super obvious Sherlock reference in this chapter?)


End file.
